What’s work?

I talked to my boss for the first time in over two months this week.  I’m going back to work, part-time, in about a week and a half, so it was time to check in and make sure he was still good with all the stuff we worked out, and you know what?  He is.  I have to go back to work, which sucks, but I’m getting everything I asked for, which makes it a little bit okay.  Part-time, flexible working hours, only one or two regularly scheduled meetings…I don’t get healthcare, which totally sucks, but we can figure that out on our own.  And we will, probably this weekend.

Still, it was really nice not to think about work at all for this long, and I’m a little bummed that I have to think about it again, and then, gasp, actually do it.  I might need some help remembering how to do my job.

No one warned me that could happen

I anticipated smelly poopy diapers  (and the smellier ones still to come) and diaper blowouts and getting peed on.  I anticipated (to a certain extent) having days where I can’t make it into the shower and everything I’m wearing is something I wore the day before and then slept in AND has spit-up on it.  I did NOT anticipate the baby spitting up on me WHILE NURSING and then getting squirmy-yelly-mad when I insist on a 20-second break to mop us both up.  Ew, baby.  I know you ate that once, but it’s not better the second time around.

(See what I did there, Mom and Dad?  His first word isn’t destined to be “gross”.)

Runaway

The other day when I was walking with Jack, we saw a red car driving slowly towards us.  It stopped a few houses ahead, and a white-haired lady got out of the passenger side.  I assumed she was being dropped off, but then she looked at the house across from her and clapped a few times.  If she said anything, I couldn’t hear it. I had time to wonder what on earth she was doing.  As we got level with her, she said “Little black dog wearing a cone.  Have you seen him?”  Ah.  “No, but I’ll keep my eyes open.  If I find him, where should I return him?”  “The house at the end of the cul de sac.  No one’s home, but the door’s open.”  Uh…maybe that’s how he got out?  Or maybe she left it open so he could get back in.  We got beyond the car and I looked down the cul de sac.  There was a little dog in a cone standing in the front yard of the house at the end.  “Ma’am?  Is that him?”  It was.  Probably too embarrassed in the cone to wander far.

Smart little dog.  We had one of those.  And we had one of the other kind.  When Roxy got out, she took off, but if you could get close enough with her leash, she’d come trotting back so we could all go for a walk.  Riley, on the other hand, occasionally got out the back but could always be found waiting patiently to be let in at the front door.

Blue skies, empty head

I did it again.  While walking with Jack this morning, I started drafting a post in my head, and when I got back, I remembered that I’d thought of something, but that’s as far as I can get.  I had hoped it would come back to me when I went out for my “run”*, but no luck.  Gone forever.

*That’s right!  I’ve started exercising (other than walks with the baby in the stroller) again!  It’s a “run” because I can’t call it running yet, or even jogging, not really.  I’m starting from basically nothing, so I’m back to the walk/jog pattern.  Walk for 5 minutes, jog for 1 minute, repeat for at least half an hour (longer when I can get the time).  Do that three times a week (at least), for at least two weeks, then walk for 4 minutes, jog for 2.  It’ll take a long time, but it’s a safe (injury-free) way to get back to running.  And MAN do I want to avoid hurting myself.  I miss running.  The hard part now is figuring out when I can do it.  Jack still has, like, NO pattern.  Not for eating, not for sleeping, and that makes it hard to work out with John when I can leave him with Jack during the work day.  It’s best (for all three of us) if I go out immediately after feeding the baby, but will that be when John can look away from work for a bit?  Hard to say, hard to predict.  But we’ll figure it out.

I did see someone using the same brand jogger that I have and actually jogging with it.  We exchanged brief hellos, but she went by too quickly for me to ask how hold her baby was when she started jogging with her.  The recommended age is 8 months, so it’s likely to be a while before Jack and I jog together.

Nothing much

My brain is mush.  It’s worse than pregnancy brain, I think – it’s exhausted brain.  I’ll think of something to write about, start writing it in my head, and then it’s completely lost by the time I get in front of my laptop (usually days later).  I used to send myself emails with notes in them.  Why don’t I do that now?  Because mushbrain.  So John has the baby right now, I have two hands free, and I’ve got nothing.  Nothing interesting, nothing amusing, nothing more than an account of the day.

I also probably won’t have my hands free for much longer.  John has the baby, yes, but he’s starting to cry (Jack, not John), and it sounds like it’ll turn into the hungry cry any minute now.

I might not have my hands free, but I’ll have a cuddly baby in my arms (when he’s not wailing, he’s SUPER cuddly), John made us a cozy fire in the wood stove, and he’s going to grill us salmon (once HIS hands are free).

This is our exciting Saturday night.